


When Miss Hardbroom Came to Stay

by Cliotheproclaimer



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Animal Attack, Blood and Injury, Eventual Hicsqueak, F/F, Hecate sleeping on the sofa bed, Julie Hubble being an amazing nurse, Mild Gore, Pippa Pentangle freaking out, Rom com vibes, Stitches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 08:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14828856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cliotheproclaimer/pseuds/Cliotheproclaimer
Summary: In the aftermath of an attack by a near-mythical beast, Hecate Hardbroom has little choice but to spend a week of her summer holiday with the two Hubbles - a prospect that initially fills her with dread. And yet as time progresses, amidst infliction of popular culture, late night chats with Julie Hubble and a frantic Pippa Pentangle materialising in the middle of the living room, Hecate comes to a better understanding not only of non-magical life, or of Mildred Hubble, but of her own heart.





	When Miss Hardbroom Came to Stay

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm posting this to motivate myself to finish it, hopefully won't come to regret! I really hope you enjoy this. (Pippa Pentangle doesn't make an appearance in this chapter but rest assured she will more than make up for it later.)
> 
> (As you might have gathered from the tags there is also a dash of Mumbroom, but nothing too serious.)
> 
> TW for medical stuff and slight gore

It was a warm August evening on the mountain, the approaching twilight cut through by the faintest of breezes as Hecate left the castle, black skirts trailing in the dew of the grass. Save Gwen and Algernon, whom Hecate had left making cocoa and preparing to go to bed, there was not a magical soul for miles around, and as she walked the only sound she could hear was the soft tread of her own boots.

Hecate became well used to her own company over the long summer months, and with Ada visiting her bed-ridden mother, the Academy was emptier than ever. She enjoyed the quiet; took the six weeks without chattering pupils and friendship group drama and letters from parents as a time for her own peaceful reflection and contemplation of the previous academic year. Hecate would patch together her frayed nerves, perhaps write a few articles for a reputable potions journal, and as tonight, gather rare ingredients for her own private study.

 

There was a stillness about the night as Hecate approached Hollow Wood, the great oaks and hazels and yews looming above her, dappling the remnants of the sunlight and sheltering the sleepy birdsong of settling starlings and thrushes.

Hecate was not usually given to flights of fantasy, but as the canopy above her grew thicker, the air cooler, she fancied she could hear whispers, the sounds of movement behind the trees. She shivered involuntarily, and drew her cloak more tightly around her. With no one to see her she had forgone the formality of her severe bun, and her loose hair felt as though it could shield her from what might lurk within the forest.

Hecate scolded herself inwardly for that, shaking her head. In the days when she had wandered the woods with Pippa, whether for detention or foraging or simply a long walk to collect themselves before exams, Hecate had always been the brave one.

 

_‘What was that?’ Pippa shrieked, clutching at Hecate and diving behind her shoulder. Any other girl, and Hecate would have rolled her eyes and increased her pace. But not Pippa. She untangled herself from her friend, ignoring the rapid staccato of her own heart, and took her hand in her own once more._

_‘Only a barn owl, Pip.’ She said, her voice low and soothing as they walked deeper and deeper into the woods. Long hours spent locked in the cellar for her misbehaviour had left her fearless of the dark and the noises  it made. And Pippa would nod, and smile self-consciously, gazing at Hecate with a look that she did not understand but would send a spark of warmth running through her, no matter how cold the evening was._

Hecate was startled out of her reverie by a louder noise, and it was with a cold trickle down her spine that she realised this one could not be passed off as her imagination. It was the sound of something moving along the forest floor, the sound of approaching feet.

_Probably a fox, or weasel_. Hecate’s inner voice chastised her for her fear. But she clutched the basket closer to herself and walked a little faster, as the sky darkened above her, the woods lit only by what moonlight could stream through the branches of the trees.

It was the night of a Grain moon, the most auspicious night of gathering for those herbs and plants that quicken and ripen. She could not neglect her duty on this night of all nights. That was what Hecate told herself as she forced herself to continue walking inwards, wishing with all her heart that she was curled up on her sofa at home with a good book and the safety of her candle-lit room.

 

The approaching steps seemed to grow louder, a low growl permeating the stillness of the night. Hecate stiffened, fear coiling in her stomach, and she risked a glance behind her, hands raised.

Nothing. Not even a squirrel or rabbit. Hecate exhaled in relief and wondered at the potency of her own imagination, shaking her head at herself.

From the depths of the copse, a pair of malevolent amber eyes watched her do so.

 

* * *

 

Hecate did not know how long she had been foraging when she heard the noises again. The low growl, the sound of padded feet treading softly along the forest floor. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and she shivered again, glancing around warily. _Just your imagination._ She told herself, firmly. Steeling herself, she knelt to the ground to pick a sprig of Moly, her fingers reaching to close around its dark stems.

As she did, Hecate heard the rush of air and the howl of the creature as it sprung towards her and knocked her to the ground.

In the moonlight she could make out dark fur contrasted against the claws that ripped into her dress, the gleam of white teeth in a snarling mouth before they sunk into her side, piercing flesh.

At the suddenness of the assault, Hecate’s magic, always so difficult to control and tame, took on a life of its own within her. There was a bright flash and a surge of energy, and the creature was flung away into the night.

Hecate panted wildly, struggling for breath as she reeled from the attack. As adrenaline faded, she began to feel the pain in her side, which grew from a dull ache to something that roared and burned like a licking flame. Hissing, she felt at her side, wet and sticky with blood that flowed from her with an alarming swiftness, staining the ground beneath her.

_It’ll come back_. Hecate thought, frantically. _It’ll smell the blood and realise I’m injured. It’ll come back._ Shaking, she attempted to transfer – but felt her magic flicker and sputter within her.

Moaning in fear and pain, Hecate cursed herself for that stupid, _stupid_ outburst. Her breath coming out in short gasps, she rolled herself over and dragged herself along the ground to a dense thicket, hiding herself amongst the bushes and brambles. With each movement her side seemed to scream at her in agony, and Hecate screwed her eyes shut in an effort to block out the pain.

She could not hear the creature yet, didn’t know how far her powers had sent it, but it could surely only be a matter of time. All she knew was that she was utterly drained; her magical strength dimming like a candle as she lost blood, and even as she attempted to heal her mauled side her body refused to obey her commands.

Hecate dug her nails into her skin in an effort to remain conscious, to think rationally. Gwen and Algernon had long since retired for the night, wouldn’t think to look for her until the morning, and perhaps not even then. If only she could wake them…

Summoning every ounce of magic she possessed, Hecate sent a silent cry for help out into the night, pushing and stretching out the call until it spanned a mile around her.

In the castle _,_ Algernon and Gwen slept soundly, untroubled by the faint whisper tapping at their consciousness. But in a high rise flat in the neighbouring town, the only other witch for at least five miles sat up on the sofa where she had fallen asleep, rubbed her eyes and heard a voice she knew almost as well as her own.

 

* * *

 

 

Hecate did not know how long she waited. The dark approached and drew over the sky, and with it she grew weaker, time lurching in a nightmarish haze until she gave up trying to hazard at its passing. Only knew that as the last dregs of her magic began to falter and the call dim, she heard a shout.

‘Miss Hardbroom? Miss Hardbroom where are you?’ Hecate widened her eyes. She must be hallucinating. There was no way on earth that she could possibly be hearing…

‘Miss Hardbroom?’ The voice called again. Hecate squinted. Dimly, she could make out a light scanning the forest, the unmistakeable sound of familiar feet tripping over roots.

‘Mildred Hubble.’ She hissed. ‘Mildred!’ The girl drew nearer, and Hecate gripped at her ankle, half to convince herself that she hadn’t conjured Mildred from the depths of her nightmares.

Mildred shrieked, and dropped what Hecate presumed to be a torch with a loud _clunk_.

‘Mildred.’ Hecate raised her voice a little, until the girl looked down and saw her.

With a gasp, Mildred knelt beside her teacher’s prone form, her eyes meeting Hecate’s in the darkness.

‘Miss Hardbroom!’ She breathed, scanning Hecate with her torch. ‘What happened? Are you alright?’

‘I was attacked.’ Hecate muttered, attempting to prop herself up on her elbow and wincing as the pain in her side seemed to double. Mildred’s eyes widened as she took in the gaping wound in Hecate’s side.

‘No – stop.’ Mildred told her teacher, firmly. Putting her arm around her teacher’s waist, she helped her to sit up, pressing at the laceration with her hand. As she left the ground, Hecate was struck by a wave of dizziness and pain that seemed to make the world spin at breakneck speed. Desperately, Hecate tried to hold back her nausea, but as the spinning got faster and faster she leant over and retched onto the ground.

 

She was prepared for Mildred Hubble to leap back in disgust – but the girl merely shifted herself so that she could use one hand to hold back Hecate’s hair, and the other to continue the pressure on her side.

‘It’s alright, Miss Hardbroom.’ Mildred murmured, soothingly. If Hecate had the strength she would have rolled her eyes, but as she shivered and coughed, the girl’s steady hands really did feel like a comfort.

‘Right, okay.’ She heard Mildred mutter. ‘Miss Hardbroom, what attacked you?’

‘Palug’s Cath.’ Hecate groaned, beads of cold sweat on her forehead. At Mildred’s blank look, she elaborated. ‘A panther-like creature.’

‘A panther?’ Mildred looked a little sick herself, then. ‘Where is it?’

‘I banished it.’ Hecate tried not to lean back onto the girl’s shoulder, but was too weak to stop herself. ‘But it will come back, make no mistake.’ Mildred nodded.

‘We need to get away, then.’ She said, her voice surprisingly calm. ‘Miss, stay here.’

‘Mildred Hubble, wait!’ But Mildred, laying her gently back down, sprinted back out into the clearing. Hecate waited with bated breath until the girl returned, her hands full of cobweb and moss.

‘I did an outdoor first aid course with Mum.’ She explained, helping Hecate sit up once more. ‘These will help stop the bleeding.’ Mildred dropped her hand to Hecate’s side, probing gently at the wound with her fingers. Waving her hand, she summoned water, and proceeded to clean the mauled flesh.

 Hecate sighed in relief as the water made contact with her skin, and Mildred pressed the cobweb against her side, using the remainder of her belt to keep it held tightly in place.

‘There.’ She said in an undertone. ‘I brought my broom, do you think you could stay balanced on it?’ Hecate closed her eyes.

‘I shall simply have to.’ She said, teeth gritted. There was no helping it – she had already lost too much blood to regain her strength any time soon, and Mildred was far too young to attempt to transfer without a potion.

‘Great, let me just…’ But as Mildred attempted to rise, there was the sound of a growl, and of the slinking movement of paws.

‘That’s it now.’ Hecate said, frantically. Mildred cursed.

‘My broom’s in the clearing.’ She whispered. ‘I need to get it, or I can’t get you home.’

‘Never mind me, idiot girl.’ Hecate snapped. ‘Run! It won’t have any mind to you if it can smell wounded prey.’

‘I’m not leaving you!’ Mildred said, outraged. ‘Just…just wait here.’

‘Absolutely not! I forbid it!’ But Mildred was already lowering Hecate to the ground, and crouching at the edge of the thicket, peering out.

‘I can see it.’ She said, breathlessly. ‘Yikes Miss Hardbroom, it’s enormous.’

‘Mildred Hubble, please.’ Hecate pleaded, brow pinched in worry. ‘You can’t fight it with magic, it’s too strong. You need to run, now.’ Mildred turned back, a smile on her face that made the girl look braver than she must feel.

‘Don’t worry about me.’ She replied, in hushed tones. ‘I’m good with animals, remember.’ And she left the thicket before Hecate could remonstrate with her about how her ease at handling the familiars at school _in no way whatsoever_ equipped her with the ability to fight a witch-eating panther.

 

Hecate rolled over, watched with a sickening dread as the cat caught sight of Mildred and began to prowl towards her, licking its lips and eyeing her with an expression of greed.

Mildred Hubble, however, was unfazed. Bringing her hands to her chest, Hecate watched in amazement as the girl conjured an orb of pure light, and threw it in the direction of the cat. In spite of itself it broke its gaze to swipe at it with its paw, hissing in frustration when it disappeared into nothingness.

With her face furrowed in concentration, Mildred sent out another ball, and then another, until the cat was dazed and well and truly distracted, spinning wildly in an effort to catch light that melted into the ground.

Shaking back her hair, Mildred chanted,

 

_‘By full moon’s light my spell is cast,_

_Let madness reign and make it last!’_

Hecate’s mouth, fell open. Where the moonlight fell in the clearing, a colossal dragon appeared in the clearing, roaring and beating its wings, breathing fire at the Palug’s cath, which next to Mildred’s monstrous creation appeared no bigger than a first year kitten. It took steps towards the cat, opening its cavernous jaws as if to swallow the feline whole.

Visibly trembling, the cat turned tail and fled into the night, yowling in fear. As it did so, a cloud passed over the moon and the dragon vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared.

Acting fast, Mildred grabbed her broom and raced back to where Miss Hardbroom was.

‘There you go, Miss.’ Mildred said, looking a little giddy with relief. ‘Told you I was good with animals.’ Hecate didn’t answer, her eyes closed as the pain threatened to overwhelm her senses. She heard Mildred Hubble’s anxious voice next to her ear.

‘Miss Hardbroom? Miss Hardbroom you have to stay awake, please.’ Hecate couldn’t reply, but Mildred kept talking, undeterred.

‘That was quite good, wasn’t it? I got the idea from Doctor Who. Mum was working late tonight, and I was watching TV until she came back – well, until I fell asleep. She probably will be back now. I left her a note telling her where I was, but I don’t think she’ll be very impressed.’ Amidst the girl’s rambling, Hecate moaned in agony as Mildred shifted her onto her broom.

‘That’s right, Miss Hardbroom, just concentrate on my voice.’ She said, firmly, as they took off into the night. ‘It’s been a long summer, hasn’t it? And so warm – Mum and I went to stay in Brighton with Auntie Mo for a bit. We all went to the Pride parade, and bought candy floss, and sat on the beach eating fish and chips. There was a seagull who tried to take my fish, and I was so surprised I accidentally turned him into a frog. Mum was properly vexed; I think now she’s fully up to speed on the Witch’s Code she’s finally worked out what a liability I am. Is there a witching Pride, Miss Hardbroom? Does there need to be?’

Slowly, even as she fought to concentrate on every word of Mildred’s, Hecate felt herself drift further and further away from consciousness, like sea-thrift on an ebbing tide. ‘Miss Hardbroom? Hang on, we’re almost there. Please stay awake, Miss Hardbroom! I’m not sure I can keep us both upright. Miss Hardbroom, please!’

But even as Mildred Hubble pleaded with her, Hecate felt herself slip into the blackness.

 

* * *

 

 

‘Miss Hardbroom? Miss Hardbroom? Can you open your eyes for me, please?’ As the world began to piece back together around her, Hecate frowned. She could not point to the owner of the voice, and yet it sounded oddly familiar. The surface beneath her felt far softer than any mattress or sofa in the academy – and she did not know what she was wearing, but it was certainly not one of her own dresses. ‘That’s right – I just need to ask you a few questions, that’s all.’

Hecate’s eyes flickered open, and she moaned as she attempted to shield her eyes from the light, her head throbbing. The burning pain in her side had become a dull, heavy ache, tempered enough by whatever pain relief she had been given so as to be bearable.

Begrudgingly she opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. She appeared to be on some sort of bed, but one positioned in the middle of the room where there was also a kitchen, a dining table and the assortment of things such as armchairs and a coffee table and bookshelves which indicate a sitting room. And sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at her in concern, was Julie Hubble.

‘Good.’ Julie said, visibly relieved. ‘If you didn’t wake up this time I was going to take you to hospital, section 11c(ii) be damned.’

‘What on earth am I doing here?’ Hecate groaned, bringing her hand to her side – now wrapped tightly in white gauze. As she took a closer look at the room, she could make out framed photos of a smaller Mildred Hubble, pinned paintings on cupboards and piles of unfinished sketchbooks. And as her lucidity increased, Hecate realised she was dressed in a pair of tartan pyjama bottoms, and a t-shirt with the words _Girl Power_ and five scantily clad women on it. If it wasn’t for the meticulous bandaging of her side, she might well suspect herself to be in the first circle of her personal Hell.

‘Mildred brought you back.’ Julie explained, ‘Crashed into the balcony at _two o’clock in the morning_ covered in blood, and with you at death’s door.’ Colour flooded Hecate’s cheeks – or as much colour as she could muster having lost so much blood.

‘My…apologies.’ She got out, struggling with herself. ‘I was trying to summon two of the staff; I had no intention whatsoever of putting Mildred in danger.’  Julie sniffed, but inclined her head.

‘Don’t worry, I believe you.’ Julie said, begrudgingly. ‘If there’s anyone who wouldn’t want Millie going on a madcap mission at the dead of night, it would be you, I suppose.’ Hecate raised her eyebrows.

‘Indeed.’ She said, tightly. ‘She expressly disobeyed my instructions to save herself and attempted to fight a legendary panther.’

‘Tell me about it.’ Julie rolled her eyes. ‘If I believed in grounding, she would be grounded till university.’

‘I quite agree. I wonder if the Cackle’s Statute allows for detentions to be set before term begins?’

‘Oi!’ Mildred emerged from what Hecate presumed was her bedroom, in a t-shirt several sizes too big for her bearing the slogan _Fleetwood Mac_ , and pyjama shorts. She looked a little hurt. ‘I defeated the panther! And I only crashed because Miss Hardboom started slipping off the broom.’

‘Mildred Hubble.’ Hecate enunciated, flashing her eyes dangerously. Automatically, Mildred stood up a little straighter, coming over to where Hecate was lying down.

‘Yes Miss Hardbroom?’ Mildred asked, nervously. Hecate looked her sternly in the eye.

‘Thank you, Mildred.’ She said, quietly. ‘You saved my life.’ Mildred gave her an awkward smile in return, fidgeting a little.

‘That’s alright, Miss.’ She looked up at Julie Hubble in wide-eyed appraisal of how much trouble she was in. Hecate fought back a smirk at Julie’s stony countenance. And to think Ms. Hubble gave her so much trouble over her treatment of Mildred. ‘I’m – er – going to get some breakfast.’

‘You can have shredded wheat and a cup of tea.’ Julie said in a clipped voice. ‘And you have lost the right to jam, young lady.’ Mildred bit her lip, looking a bit sheepish, but going into the kitchen. As she disappeared from view, she called back,

‘What can I get you, Miss Hardbroom?”

‘Get me?’ Hecate asked, bewildered.

‘Yeah, what would you like for breakfast? We’ve got cereal, toast, porridge…well, if you like Ready Brek.’

‘Thank you, but I am not hungry.’ Hecate said stiffly. Julie snorted.

‘Mildred, get her some granola and yoghurt, and put some jam on it.’ Mildred made an outraged sound.

‘Miss Hardbroom gets jam?’

‘Miss Hardbroom has lost a lot of blood, and furthermore did not fly out in the middle of the night to fight a panther.’

‘I’m really not hungry.’ Hecate muttered, but she was quelled by a look from Julie Hubble.

‘Granola for iron, yoghurt for fat, jam for sugar.’ She said, firmly. ‘I got Millie to make one of those blood thickening potions, and whilst they’re all well and good, you need to be eating.’ Hecate peered into the kitchen in surprise.

‘You made a blood thickening potion?’ Millie poked her head around from where she was making tea.

‘I triple checked all the ingredients.’ She reassured her teacher. ‘I wouldn’t have tried it, but Mum was getting really worried. You were so pale, and you didn’t wake up all the time she was sewing you up.’ Hecate’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open.

‘Sewing me up?’ She asked, weakly.

‘Ooh speaking of, your bandages need replacing.’

Hecate flinched instinctively as Julie came a little closer to her on the bed, glancing anxiously in Mildred’s direction. Julie noticed her looking and called out.

‘Millie! Have your breakfast in the kitchen, I’ll tell you when you can come back in.’ Hecate gave Julie a small smile.

‘Thank you.’

Gently, Julie Hubble lifted up Hecate’s shirt and unwound her bandage. Hecate inhaled sharply as the mass of stitches were revealed, stark against her pale skin.

‘Sorry.’ Julie apologised. ‘The wound was very irregular; it’s not exactly my best needlework.’ Hecate grimaced, looking away from the disfigured skin, but nodded.

‘It’s fine.’ She said, head rested against the head of the bed – which confusingly appeared to simultaneously be a sofa - as Julie’s fingers probed carefully at her side. ‘Palug’s Cath is insensate to magic, and the same goes for the injuries it inflicts. I’m…very grateful that Mildred brought me to you.’ Hecate couldn’t see Julie, but could imagine the smile quirking up the corners of her lips.

‘Well, well, well.’ She said, applying some sort of salve to the stiches which caused Hecate to hiss in pain. ‘Hark at Miss Magic. I thought you’d hate anything as ordinary as stitching up a wound.’ Hecate didn’t answer, biting her lip in an effort not to moan as the pain in her side intensified. Immediately, Julie’s voice lost its teasing tone. ‘Here, take some paracetamol. Hecate looked up at her weakly.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Non-magical pain relief.’ Julie elaborated, handing Hecate a glass of water and two white pills. ‘I can’t get you anything stronger without a prescription I’m afraid.’ Hecate nodded, letting her hair fall over her face in an effort to hide her grimace of pain. Julie kept talking as she cleaned and dressed the wound once more. ‘You were very lucky – if it wasn’t for your belt, the wound would have been far deeper than it was. As it is, there’s no internal bleeding. What on earth was a panther doing in Hollow Wood?’

‘I don’t know.’ Hecate’s voice was muffled by the sofa and her hair. ‘I’ve never heard of one outside of Wales, and most of them have been killed or captured. For some reason a lot of rare magical creatures have been congregating near the school.’

‘Oh?’

Hecate sighed in relief as Julie bandaged her side, and the pressure alleviated the ache a little. ‘Why is that then?’

‘I have my – ah – theories, most of them concerning _your daughter_ and her ability to attract danger from quite literally a hundred miles away.’

‘How can you possibly blame this on Mildred?’ Julie said, in a disbelieving tone.

‘It’s not a question of blame.’ Hecate twisted to look up at Julie. ‘They’re attracted to the magical energy she gives off. And as the first witch in your family for centuries, there’s a build-up of power within her.’ Julie looked startled.

‘Isn’t that dangerous?’ Hecate nodded.

‘Very possibly. But Mildred’s control is improving. And Ada and I have discussed what precautions we can take as she grows older.’

Julie sealed the bandage, and Hecate sat up a little, letting her shirt fall back down and her legs come over the side of the sofa.  

‘Right.’ Hecate said, briskly. ‘Thank you very much, but I really ought to be getting back to Cackle’s, so…’

‘Absolutely not.’ Julie’s voice was firm. ‘If you can’t treat yourself magically, and you won’t go to hospital, then you’re just going to have to stay here.’ Hecate’s eyes widened.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Besides, you can’t risk tearing your stitches. So no broomstick flying, long distance transferring or cross-country walking.’

Hecate began to splutter, unsure of how to respond to such talk.

‘That is – for one thing I would not dream of being such a burden…’

‘You wouldn’t be a burden, Miss Hardbroom.’ Mildred bounded into the room to sit on the opposite arm of the sofa. ‘You can sleep on the sofa bed, and we always cook enough for three anyway.’

‘I really can’t let you leave.’ Julie said, a note of apology in her voice, but nonetheless a with a tone that Hecate recognised as brooking no argument. ‘Not until your stitches can come out.’

‘And when will that be?’ Hecate asked through gritted teeth.

‘About a week.’ Hecate closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. But she was weakening. If truth be told, even sitting up had made the blood rush from her head a tad, and she wasn’t entirely sure that she would be successful in getting to her feet, let alone transferring back to the castle.

‘Fine. Thank you for… accommodating me, Ms. Hubble.’

‘Julie, please.’ Hecate regarded her, carefully.

‘Very well. I suppose you may call me…Hecate.’ Julie rolled her eyes.

‘Well, if you’re sure.’ In fairness, her tone was not as sarcastic as it might have been. Hecate turned to Mildred, who was looking a little nervous.

‘You, on the other hand, may continue calling me Miss Hardbroom, Mildred Hubble.’ Mildred sighed in relief.

‘Thank you, Miss Hardbroom.’  

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought! xx


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